It’s been six years since Adrian Lester was on stage. Not since playing Shakespeare’s Henry V at London’s National Theatre, in fact; capping a run of superlative performances from this brilliant Rada graduate.

‘I sat there thinking, “What do I do now?”. I’d sort of hit this plateau,’ he says of that time.

Adrian Lester is appearing in Cat On A Hot Tin Roof at the Novello Theatre

Hence his forays into TV and film here and in the US. But the thrill of returning to the boards is written all over his face.

Lester is taking on the role of Brick, the damaged, violent, possibly closeted, heart of Tennessee Williams’s classic play Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, in a production that has transferred to London’s West End after a sell-out Broadway run.

He joins the stentorian James Earl Jones, playing Big Daddy, and Phylicia Rashad (best known here for The Cosby Show).

‘During the technical rehearsals, Debbie [‘Fame’ Allen, the director] has said to me: “You just can’t sit still!”,’ he grins. ‘And I feel like I’ve been released – I’m on the stage again!’ He lets out a roar: ‘Come on! I can do what I want without having to hit a mark and someone say cut! Say cut now, you b*****d!’

If your impression of Lester is formed solely from his stint as suave, sophisticated conman Mickey ‘Bricks’ Stone from long-running BBC series Hustle (which returns in January), prepare for a shock.

Lester, 41, is impeccably spoken, and a thoughtful conversationalist with trenchant observations on all manner of topics.

He admits he’s always aware of how he carries himself but rather than being cautiously reserved, he has an irrepressible, often roguish, sense of humour, and swears with merry abandon.

‘In my casting, I’ve always come across as quite nice,’ he concedes, ‘which is why I did [BBC series] Merlin.

When the director told me the character just kills people, I said, “I’m in.”‘

He’s looking forward to puncturing any lingering preconceptions in his return to the stage, too.

‘It’s nice to just be loose, accent-wise, in attitude and in my physicality,’ he says, rolling his shoulders with echoes of his breakdancing past. ‘And I will have to lose it – in anger, then sadness – and then get p****d and fall over; which is why it’s a great part to do.

Lester is known not to indulge much in alcohol: has he been practising for the famously whiskey-sodden role?

‘I have, not on purpose, got to the point where I’ve got that dull-headed buzz from three or four cocktails on a Saturday evening, and then I’ve gone back through the script – and some things do make more sense,’ he laughs.

There has been a fair amount of interest generated by the commercial decision to cast only black actors for a play originally set in the segregated Deep South. Certainly, Lester admits that, before this opportunity: ‘Williams was one of those writers who hadn’t been on my radar as an actor because the perception was that his work wasn’t ever going to apply to me. But the play’s actually about the father and the family, lying and the truth.’

For this production, the action has been shifted to 1985, when there would have been Southern black families with the financial clout of Big Daddy.

‘What happens emotionally for us as actors tackling the piece has nothing to do with colour,’ he says. ‘I have no idea how people will perceive me taking on this role because that’s about them, not me.

‘But I know for many people, the associations they’ve made with this play will be broken with this production. It’s not just “ooh, they’re black”, it’s actually the point of view of these people on this material is going to be unique.’

After all, the ‘laureate of the outcast’, as Williams has been called, sings to people everywhere.

‘A sense of empowerment and belonging are two things that every human being wants,’ says Lester. ‘And in this play, Williams has brilliantly removed both those things from every character in the piece, which is what makes them so f****d-up.’

Can we expect Lester back on stage soon after this?

‘I will never leave the stage alone,’ he promises. ‘On stage, the complete person is required: it’s fun to release some muscles that have been trapped for a while.’

Cat On A Hot Tin Roof runs until April 10 at London’s Novello Theatre.